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C onverging on the outskirts of the ballroom, Andrew Hampton, the Earl of Quincy and heir to a dukedom, along with his three friends, watched and discussed the debutantes as they were announced into the elaborate ballroom one after the other, along with their mothers or chaperones.

None of the gentlemen in question were looking for a wife.

At nineteen years of age, they attended university.

Standing with Andrew was Mr. Edmund Weston, heir to the Earl of Langford, Mr. James Caldwell, the second son of a baron, and Mr. Aiden Fitzpatrick, the son of a wealthy, prominent member of the ton .

Their purpose in studying the debutantes and their mamas was to learn who to avoid at all costs.

Andrew, sipping a glass of champagne, studied the young ladies, most dressed in virginal white, forced smiles on their lips as they floated into the room, no doubt on legs wobbly from nerves.

His twin older sisters had made their come out several years ago, and they had prattled on relentlessly to him about the goings-on at these events and how nervous they were at being introduced at their very first ball.

He had thought they were exaggerating, but by the petrified looks on most of the debutantes’ faces, he believed them now.

Thank Christ, gentlemen were not subject to the same scrutiny.

“Are we expected to dance tonight... with... these debutantes?” Aiden Fitzpatrick asked, his body visibly shaking. “Because I, for one, don’t want to find myself with a ball and chain at my age. I haven’t had time to sow my oats or have a mistress.”

“I’m with him,” James Caldwell added. “My brother needs an heir, not me. I want to bed as many widows and actresses as I can before I have to marry.”

“What about you, Weston?” Andrew asked. “You will need an heir someday. Are you ready to settle down?”

His friend took that exact moment to sip his champagne, which caused him to choke.

Andrew smacked him on the back, hoping he wouldn’t draw unwanted attention to the four of them.

They needed to finish university and make their mark in the world before drawing the focus of young ladies with hearts in their eyes and marriage on their minds.

“Thanks for nearly killing me. The damn bubbles went up my nose.” Weston cleared his throat.

“When I finish university, I plan on starting an import and export business with Caldwell—and both of you if you are so inclined. We are already looking to buy a ship. So, no to marriage and an heir anytime soon. My uncle is in perfect health. When I inherit, I will consider it then.”

“So, why are we here?” Andrew questioned as his eyes followed a beautiful debutante as she took a turn around the ballroom, her arm linked with a tall, willowy friend with auburn hair.

His eyes were riveted on her unguarded, smiling face, with perfect features surrounded by glorious, dark-as-night, hair.

Her figure was voluptuous and displayed nicely in her pale-blue gown.

Before he realized it, his heart was pounding inside his chest, and he felt lightheaded.

It was not a good start to the Season if he was already attracted to a young lady.

“What has piqued your interest? Or should I say who ?” Fitzpatrick queried.

“What?” Andrew shook his head and turned his eyes away from the lady, who was almost upon them. “The young lady with dark hair coming this way with the tall redhead. I may have to beg an introduction. She intrigues me.” He could not believe he had admitted that.

All three of his friends laughed.

His brows drew together. “What is so funny?”

Fitzpatrick’s eyes followed the lady in question. “She is stunning, and her eyes light up her face. How do I get an introduction?”

“Wait.” Andrew put his hand out in front of Fitzpatrick.

“I saw her first. You can’t think to usurp me by getting an introduction before me.

” Any young man would need a formal introduction before he could ask for a dance and sign her dance card.

Lucky for him, the Master of Ceremonies, Lord Garvey, the Duke of Westport’s brother, was nearby, and Andrew signaled to him.

As the two ladies approached, and before they strolled right by, Andrew, with his heart thumping wildly inside his chest, heard Lord Garvey say, “Ladies, I wish to present these fine young gentlemen to you. Lady Catherine Featherstone, Miss Emmeline Connolly, may I present Lord Quincy. Lord Quincy, Lady Catherine and Miss Connolly.”

Andrew bowed over Lady Catherine’s hand as she curtsied. He struggled to keep his attention on her and not Miss Connolly. He then turned and bowed to Miss Connolly, taking her hand in his hand as she curtsied.

“It is an honor to make your acquaintance, Lord Quincy.”

“The pleasure is all mine, Miss Connolly.” He would dream later of this moment when her light-blue eyes looked into his and her lips curved up into a smile, taking his breath away. The thought of letting her hand go bothered him, and he didn’t look too deeply at why.

After Lord Garvey had completed all the introductions, Andrew asked, “Miss Connolly, may I request a dance?” He nodded to her dance card, which was tied to her wrist by a white ribbon.

She removed a pencil from her reticule, and Andrew scribbled his name on the first line.

Fitzpatrick moved beside him, actually nudging him out of the way.

“May I request a dance as well, Miss Connolly?” Fitzpatrick smiled at her but smirked at Andrew, challenging him to intercede.

Like bloody hell would he challenge him and cause a scene.

Nor did he object to his friend’s interest in the beautiful Miss Emmeline Connolly since Andrew wasn’t looking for a wife.

Only a young lady to dance with, exchange pleasantries, and perhaps steal a kiss or two.

As the first strings of a country reel played, Andrew offered his arm to Miss Connolly. “Shall we?”

She placed her hand on his forearm and replied shyly, “We shall.” A becoming shade of pink stained her cheeks, and Andrew swallowed down the sudden desire humming throughout his body. If that little contact with Miss Connolly had his member stirring, it was time to visit a bordello.

By the time the dance ended and they were winded, Andrew knew he would never be the same, nor would his heart.

Miss Connolly was the most stunning creature he’d ever seen, and he hated returning her to her friend.

He was afraid some other, more worthy gentleman would steal her away from him.

In a matter of half an hour, he’d become besotted.

He was far too young for that to happen.

And when he looked at Fitzpatrick, his eyes wide with jealousy, he knew it was not a good sign.

*

After crawling into bed and snuggling beneath her counterpane, Emmeline stared up at the ceiling, reliving the Westport ball and how she had never felt anxious from the sounds and crush of people.

When she arrived home, she’d soaked her feet in warm water and lavender oil because they were sore and blistered from dancing the entire night.

After dancing with the Earl of Quincy and Mr. Fitzpatrick, her dance card filled up quickly, as had Lady Catherine’s.

She danced with and was introduced to so many gentlemen, their faces and names blurred together except for Lord Quincy and Mr. Fitzpatrick.

They were etched into her brain for all time.

Never had she had such a fun and amusing time with men before.

Catherine had also enjoyed herself and attracted the attention of the Viscount Appleton.

He was nearly thirty but very handsome and charming and seemed quite taken with Catherine and she with him.

Perhaps she’d met her future husband on the first night of her first Season.

The Earl of Quincy and Mr. Fitzpatrick were only nineteen, and Emmeline’s heart fell to her toes because she knew they were too young to be considering marriage.

However, if single gentlemen attended a private ball, wasn’t it presumed they were actively seeking a bride?

Somehow, she didn’t believe they were. Sighing deeply, she rolled onto her side, drew her knees up, and told herself not to fall for either of them.

It would only cause her fragile heart to shatter.

Finally, her heart slowed, her breathing evened out, and she fell asleep, dreaming of two very handsome friends.

“Good morning, miss,” Amanda said the next morning as she entered the room and pushed open the curtains, letting in the warm sunshine. “Wait until you see all the hothouse flowers delivered bright and early this morning.”

Sitting up, Emmeline rubbed her eyes and squinted from the sunlight filtering inside the room. “Really?”

“Yes. Six if I counted right.”

Climbing off the bed, Emmeline sat at her dressing table.

“Let’s hurry and do my hair and dress so I can see them.

” She clasped her hands together. “I’m so excited.

My very first ball last night and my first flowers which did not come from Papa this morning.

” Her hands flew to her stomach, which hosted a family of butterflies.

“Oh my, it probably means I’ll have callers today.

” Her heart skipped. Would Lord Quincy and Mr. Fitzpatrick come to pay a morning call?

Indeed, if one came, would the other? She was dizzy from the excitement of the possibility of seeing both of them.

She said with a wistful sigh, “I’ll wear the yellow muslin day dress this morning and change into the pretty blue one for my callers. ”